


I'll Be There For You

by IveGotRedHair



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Coughing, F/M, Fever, Prompt Fill, Sickfic, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:43:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8296118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IveGotRedHair/pseuds/IveGotRedHair
Summary: Chandler is feeling under the weather but with the love of his life and his best friend by his side it might not be so bad.





	

It was still dark outside when a shrill beeping noise filled an upstate New York apartment, Chandler rolled over to turn it off before it woke Monica. She’d been working the late shift at the restaurant and had only come in just after 1am, so she deserved some proper sleep. Chandler on the other hand forced himself to sit up, he hated having to get up when it was still dark outside and even more when the love of his life was sleeping so peacefully beside him but money still had to be made so work had to be done. He shuffled to the end of their bed and ran a hand over his tired features, he wasn’t what anyone would call a morning person but even after a good night’s sleep he was feeling more exhausted than usual and there was an annoying sharpness in his throat that no amount of swallowing seem to relive. He ignored it, figuring it was nothing a hot mug of coffee couldn’t fix and so got ready for work. 

Chandler’s slugish start to the day was not helped by the freezing winter weather, the kind that makes your skin numb, lungs feel like ice and breath make hot puffs against the cold wind. By the time he got to the office he felt more like a block of ice than a person, he was shivering and the ache in his throat had not only got worse but seemed to have spread to an ache through his whole body. He made himself a coffee from the crappy machine in the breakroom and shuffled to his office without speaking to anyone, he didn’t trust his voice not to sound like he did going through puberty and that’s something he did not what to be reminded of. Inside his office he slumped behind his desk, hoping he could drown himself in enough crappy coffee to be able to make it through the day and go home. The idea of Monica being there when he got back was able to put a smile on his first for the first time that day. 

As the morning slipped by Chandler couldn’t seem to shake the shivery feeling he came in with, he also couldn’t hold back another coughing fit as it felt like burning to his already raw throat. His nose had begun to run and he was out of napkins but the break room was so far away and he couldn’t bring himself to move so he sniffed and tried to stare at his computer screen. The headache that had been building up was now throbbing behind his eyes and he couldn’t focus, the numbers seem to walk across the screen rather than stay in one place. Chandler groaned but that only made him cough, what did he bother getting out of bed for? He could be at home, curled up in bed with Monica by his side. The thought that made his chest ache for a whole new reason.   
Chandler had almost fallen asleep, head leaning on his hand and nose running when there was a knock at the door.   
“Come in,” he called, wincing at the sound of his voice.   
“Mr Bing, is everything alright? I haven’t seen you all morning.”   
It was Nina, his assistant. On a normal day he would have given her a list of jobs to do, chasing people who handed in their paperwork and such, today he hadn’t even spoken to her.   
“Everything’s fine Miss….”   
He didn’t get to finish his sentence before it was snached away by a coughing fit.  
“If you don’t mind me saying Sir, you don’t look well,” she said, the concern evident in her voice.   
Chandler sighed and rubbed his temples, there was no point in hiding it, he probably looked as miserable as he felt; pale and clammy with a red nose and glassy eyes.   
“I don’t feel well Nina,” he admitted, his voice tired and strained.   
She looked at him with pity and Chandler couldn’t help be reminded of his mom, the disapproving look she always gave him whenever he was ill as a child, like he’d done it on purpose to make her life difficult.   
“Why not go home then Sir?” she offered.   
Chandler shook his head. “I can’t, I’m the boss, I can’t go home over a little cold, they really respect me as it is,” he said, throwing in a little of his trade mark sarcasm.   
“No offence Sir but you’re in no state to be here, chances are you’ll just get them all sick and then they’ll really love you. Just go home and I’ll make something up, family emergency.”   
Chandler broke into a small smile and turned to cough into his elbow.   
“Thank you Nina, I really owe you one,” he said, gathering up his things.   
The idea of going home sounded like heaven, as long as he didn’t pass out on the train home he’d be back with Monica within the hour.   
“You sure do and don’t you forget it,” she said with a gentle smile. She’d never quite understood some of the others dislike of their boss, he was a nice man, he worked hard and he looked after them well, sometimes better than he looked after himself.   
“I won’t, I promise,” he said before disappearing out the door, hopefully not to return until he was well again. 

The journey home was no warmer and Chandler was shaking like a lief by the time he reached the apartment door. He tried knocking, resting his head against the cool wood but their was no answer, Monica must have gone out to the shops or to meet one of the group for lunch, was it lunch time? Chandler had no idea, he hadn’t felt hungry all day. He slowly rummaged around for his key and opened the door where he was met by a wave of warmth and comfort. If he thought he’d felt exhausted at work it was nothing to how he felt upon getting home, he didn’t even make it to the bed, instead collapsing on the couch with a wheeze and a cough. He was asleep in minutes, curled up in his suit with an old woolen blanket Phoebe had left with them some years ago. 

 

After a trip to the shops the last thing Monica expected to find as she climbed the stairs to her and Chandler’s apartment is for the front door to be wide open. At first a string of horrible things run through her mind from robbery to assault but then she sees the key in the door, it seemed Chandler had come early and left the door open on the way in. She laughed and walked in, closing the door behind her. She couldn’t help wonder what had caused Chandler to be in such a rush he forgot to close up and was about to shout for him when she noticed a lump on the couch. It was covered it by the old blanket that normally covered the back of the couch, she put the shopping on the table before going over. Monica found Chandler fast asleep, curled up with his jacket and tie still on, he was also much paler than usual, his cheeks rosey and nose irritated and red. She frowned and knelt down beside him, in nearly all the time she’d known him she’d hardly ever seen Chandler sick, it was just something that didn’t seem to happen to him. He claimed that was because he was ill enough as a child it was life cutting him a break. She touched his forehead with her cold hand, she hadn’t meant to wake him just feel his temperature but his eyes fluttered open nonetheless   
“Hey baby,” she softly, running her fingers through his hair.   
“Hey…” he replied before being cut off by a harsh cough.   
Monica felt a pang in her heart as she rubbed Chandler’s back, helping him regain control over his breathing.   
“You sound awful! How are you feeling?” She asked.   
“Not good,” he replied, slumping against her. She could feel the heat radiating from him, he was burning up and obviously miserable. It was time for Monica to do what she did best, take charge.   
“Go and put your sweats on, I’ll get you some medicine and we’ll meet back here in five minutes.”   
Chandler couldn’t help but smile as he watched Monica get up and head to the bathroom, he would never admit it but he loved the way she look take of everything. He knew he could always rely on her to make it all okay.   
Five minutes had been and gone as Chandler slowly made his way back to the couch. He was now dressed in his favourite flannel pants and old college hoodie, it was warm and comfy, and Monica always stole it so there was a hint of her perfume about it. There was a glass of water waiting for him on the coffee table next to a box of cold and flu tablets but no Monica.He assumed she’d gone to the bathroom herself and flopped down onto the couch, wrapping the old blanket around his shivering shoulders before popping the pills. He didn’t notice Monica come out the spare bedroom, a big fluffy blanket over one arm and a box of tissues in the other.   
“Here you go,” she said, putting the blanket around Chandler’s shoulders. “It’s the blanket I always had as a kid when I sick, I thought it might help and honey you need to blow your nose.”  
She placed the box of tissues in his lap, he just gave a weak laugh. The fever was affecting his ability to think of a good comeback. He cleaned himself up as Monica sat beside him. Chandler shuffled over so he could rest his head on her shoulder, her arm wrapped around him and already he felt better.   
“When did you start feeling bad?” she asked, her fingers playing with his hair.   
“I had a sore throat this morning and it got worse,” he replied, clearing his throat as he voice cracked.   
“Poor baby,” she soothed.   
Chandler just sighed and pressed his face into her shoulder. He still felt pretty terrible, his chest aching, throat raw and head pounding but he could feel himself drifting off when his stomach made a loud grumbling noise.   
“Honey, when was the last time you ate?” Monica asked.   
Thinking about it Chandler wasn’t sure, he hadn’t really thought about food all day.   
“I haven’t,” he replied.   
“God Chandler that’s terrible! I’ll make you some soup, it’ll be easy on your stomach and help with your stuffy nose.”   
And like that she was up again, off running around the kitchen. Chandler groaned which lead to another coughing fit. Man he really hated being sick, it happened so often when he was young wasn’t that enough? He sneezed into his arm and pulled Monica’s fluffy blanket up around his shoulders, he was still shivery but it did help somewhat. 

Chandler had just resigned himself to being miserable on the couch, waiting for Monica to finish cooking when the front door flew open.   
“I thought I smelt food, whatcha cooking?”   
It was Joey, of course. Who else would walk into their apartment in the middle of the day at the smell of food?   
“Chicken soup,” Monica replied.   
“Who’s sick?” Joey asked just as Chandler went into a huge coughing fit.   
“That would be me.”   
“Dude you look like crap, I knew you couldn’t fight illness forever!” Joey said, coming over to his best friend.   
“Wow thanks Joe,” Chandler muttered, blowing his nose.   
Joey got as far as the couch before he noticed the tv, it was silent, no one had it turn it on so it was just a blank screen.   
“You’re not watching it?” Joey asked.   
“No.”   
“But you’re sick, you always watch it!”   
“Not this time,” Chandler said, coughing weakly into his fist.   
“Watch what?” Monica asked from the kitchen.   
“Chandler’s favourite film.”  
Joey then started searching through the video no matter Chandler’s protests between his various coughs and sneezes. After a few minutes Joey got up and left without saying anything.   
“What was that about?” Monica asked, still stirring the soup.   
“I’m not su….”  
“Found it!”   
Joey matched back it waving a video in the air.   
“Can’t believe you didn’t take it when you moved, it’s like your favourite sick day movie,” Joey said.   
Chandler didn’t say anything, just sniffed and felt glad the fever he had was probably hiding the fact he was blushing. Joey had put in the video and was busy trying to right setting on the tv so it would play.   
“What is this movie anyway?” Monica asked, coming over from the kitchen, still wearing her apron.   
Joey had finally found the right button and the title screen appeared on the tv. Chandler tried to hide by pretending to have a coughing fit and hiding his face in the blanket.   
“The Princess Bride? Really?”   
“It’s been Chandler’s sick day movie ever since I moved in,” Joey said.   
“Really Chandler?” Monica asked, the amusement evident in her voice.  
The sick man raised his face from the blanket only to be struck with a real coughing fit, one that had him doubled over.   
“Breathe, breathe, you’re alright, you’re okay, you’re okay.”  
Monica was beside him, rubbing his back and putting a glass of water into his shaky hands.   
“Thanks,” he croaked, his voice was going to go soon if he wasn’t careful.   
“My poor baby aren’t you?” she said, kissing the side of his head.   
“And to answer your question I watch The Princess Bride when I’m sick is because it used to be one of the few movies we had in the house when I was kid, so I used to just watch it on the repeat. Now it doesn’t feel like a sick day without it.”  
Monica felt a tug on a heart strings, Chandler may act a sarcastic goof but really he was a sweet, sensitive gentleman and he was all hers.   
“Hmm Mon is something burning?” Joey asked.   
“Oh damn the soup! I’ll finish up, Joey you make sure he doesn’t die.”   
Joey took Monica’s place beside Chandler on the couch, it wasn’t quite the same but their was still something comforting about having his best friend there.   
“Not feeling too great huh?” Joey asked.   
“Understatement of the century.”   
Joey laughed and settled in beside Chandler. Even though it had originally been Chandler’s movie had it become a thing between the two of them that whenever either of them was feeling under the weather they’d watch it. They’d spend more days that they’d ever be likely to admit to quoting their favourite parts to each over.   
“Come on Monia, you’ll miss the start,” Chandler called, wincing at the pain of raising his voice.  
“Coming!”   
Just as the grandad started reading the story to his grandson Monica appeared carrying a tray with three bowls of chicken soup. She gave one to each to the boy’s before squeezing into the gap on the other side of Chandler, her own bowl of soup in hand. Despite how good the soup tasted Chandler really didn’t hungry and only had a few spoonfuls before he’d had enough, he placed his mostly full bowl on the table and leant back against Monica’s shoulder. He might still have felt pretty awful but sat between his best friend and the love of his life with his favourite movie on the tv, it felt pretty good. Could he be any happier? Well maybe if he wasn’t coughing his lungs out every five minutes but you couldn’t have everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!!   
> I'm so sorry for dropping off the face of the earth, I'm fine, nothing bad happened I just got a bit stuck. Writers block is a bitch and I've been struggling to come up with new ideas but I hope to things up more often again soon.   
> This was a request by the very lovely batman-acclaim on tumblr, she's super nice so you should all follow her.   
> Anyway I hope you liked it and thanks so much for reading :) xx


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